Francois, recent university dropout, is about to join the ranks of the one institution more welcoming to the poor and needy than the Catholic Church—a call center.

 

Much to the dismay of his parents, he just wants to save money to travel, not think too much, and marinate in that sweet, carefree late-adolescent sauce for as long as possible.

 

On a night out, two colleagues convince him to visit a brothel. He thinks little of it until many months later, a woman knocks on his door. She introduces herself as Cindy, the Ukrainian prostitute he visited. She has a package for him: a carry-cot with a baby. His baby.

 

Furious and thinking he’s being scammed, he tries to return the child to the brothel. Instead, he quickly finds himself cornered by a fast-approaching bouncer; a nude, enraged customer; and, Cindy’s sad, cocaine-glazed eyes, which seem to ask him, Don’t you understand?

 

Forced to make a split-second decision, he makes the wrong one.

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